The sentinel has difficulty crawling through the impeding roots of the tsaranis tree, but manages to feel his way through the dark burrow.

"I will not let you have it!" Erelta screams. Suddenly the tunnel veers upwards into the trunk of the tsaranis tree. He does his best to climb, but the tree gets thinner as he climbs upward. He could be right on top of the wind pod, but since it is completely dark, there is no way of telling. The static nature of his duty means physical exercise is not entertained too often. Reputation kept his vigils safe, not his skills of pursuit.

Erelta suddenly comes to a jarring halt; his helmet tightly wedged in one of the roots. He yells in an effort to call on the strength to free himself from the tree's grasp, but to no avail.

"Kreelos, what use could you possibly have for the wind pod?"

From just above, Kreelos lifts the sentinel’s platinum visor slowly to let in a smattering of sunlight; it is enough for Erelta to see that Kreelos has duped him.

"I have been searching for a gift for my parents to show them my love and respect. But it had to be something completely unusual and special – one like no other has ever been given or will ever receive again. And now I have the first piece: a rare Tisabodian helmet! There are only three of it’s kind in existence and none has ever been given to someone as a gift," Kreelos says as he bends down from inside the tree and lifts the helmet off Erelta’s head.

"Where is the baron’s wind pod, Kreelos?" Erelta yells upwards.

"It is here! Don’t worry, the roots are still intact and will be quite healthy come time for the baron's festival."

"Why have you done this!"

"I am not stealing the baron’s wind pod, Kuleenik. I am merely borrowing it," Kreelos says as he climbs up further into the tree with the sentinel’s helmet. "You sleep much heavier now than in your glory cycles, Erelta. It seems my nibbles did not rattle your superlative armor," Kreelos says with contempt.

"You tricked me!"